As I walked into the kitchen, I was immediately hit with various spices. As the scent filled my nose, I looked over to the spice rack and reminisced over all the past meals my father tailored specifically for me. Every “basic” herb layered together created more complex flavors, each attached to a specific meal and memory. Although I did not grow up with a particular culture, his creativity has taught me different cultures and their foods. Growing up as the oldest in a single-parent household in upstate New York, my father took on the responsibility of cooking and found a passion for spending time in the kitchen. From working at Red Lobster to five-star restaurants, he attained experience across various culinary environments. One of my earliest cooking memories is when he handed me a sharp but miniature knife, the ideal size for my five-year-old hands. My favorite meal I have made with my father was an Indian yellow chicken curry because of its simplicity in the cooking process but the complex action of ensuring a variety of spices is incorporated. The stressful process of making my favorite meal with him did not compare with the accomplishment I felt when it was done. In the future, I will continue to follow the tradition that my father began of keeping a variety of spices to heighten the taste of my food. Although a spice rack is not commonly appreciated, its’ remarkable effect on my personal life will carry on as I make food for my loved ones. 

– Daphney Garcia-Hatton

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